Metal Gear Solid: The Philanthropists
by Devil Boss
Summary: Six months after Shadow Moses, Solid Snake and Hal Emmerich meet on a rainy night. Follow the birth and first steps of Philanthropy, as its founding members struggle to make a difference in the world, and in their own hearts.
1. The Survivors - Part I

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the Metal Gear character or the Metal Gear franchise. They belong to Hideo Kojima, Yoji Shinkawa, Kojima Productions and Konami studios.

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**Author Notes:** This fic is something I had in mind for a while. I noticed that there are very few stories about Philanthropy, so I decided to create this one.

But I want to be as clear as possible: this is not a fic about the exploits of Philanthropy, where they destroy Metal Gears, fight baddies and finally get into trouble in the Tanker Incident. This takes place before that, when Solid Snake and Hal Emmerich founded the organization.

This story is character driven, and its main focus will be the relationship between the characters and how they evolve. There will be plenty of action too, of course, but that's not truly the point of this. I'm just fascinated at the transition the characters from Metal Gear Solid undergo before reaching Sons of Liberty. This is my take on that period.

I haven't written anything in years, due to an extremely severe case of writer's block. One day, a year and a half ago, my girlfriend advised me to simply write, about anything at all. And I did. It was a long and sometimes painful process, but here I am. This story has several chapters written already, and I'm producing more every day. Now that the ball's going, I feel great. So, if you read this far, thanks a lot for listening to my ranting, and I really hope you'll like this. It's the best I can do as of now.

Don't forget to leave a review, guys! As fellow writers, you know authors thrive on reviews!

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Devil Boss

**Metal Gear Solid - The Philanthropists**

**Episode 1: The Survivors**

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**September, 2005**

**Republic of Bashtur, Africa**

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The base was on full alert, and every last soul inside was out to get the intruder. And Solid Snake was trapped inside, being shot at. He hadn't done this in months, and it showed. He had gotten rusty, and it had cost him dearly.

All the exits were sealed. Hal Emmerich cried out through the codec, urging Snake to get out of there. Both men's lives were at stake. It seemed their quest would be short lived, just as they had both feared.

The soldiers spotted Snake again, after he tried to hide in a small room. Not good. Maybe he would really die this time. Maybe this was it. He almost welcomed it. Such a death was a better fate than passing away in some disgusting alley in Seattle, dead drunk and trying to ignore the ghosts of his past and the disappointed face of Meryl Silverburgh as their relationship failed.

Snake made it to an elevator. The enemy soldiers quickly cut all exits. They were relentless. The spy had destroyed their Metal Gear. He had to pay.

Solid Snake was trapped. The only thing he didn't know was whether the lift was his cage, or his mind and soul were.

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X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X- X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **The Survivors** X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

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**Three weeks earlier**

**August, 2005**

**Chicago, Illinois, USA**

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The heavy drops of the downpour clicked over the rooftops and the soaked streets, falling from looming dark clouds that hung tiredly over the city of Chicago, in a cold front that didn't truly belong to August. Loud, heavy and repetitive, the drum of the drops set the whole scene; a cold breeze struck occasionally, making the entire visage look even more miserable.

The man exhaled tiredly, rubbing his chest to fight the intrusive cold. His oilcloth was soaking, dripping with a thin sound that couldn't be heard amidst the rain. He was tired of watching the house across the street; all too much of that had been done during the day, all too much hesitating, too much second-guessing himself. And he was cold. He wanted to end this. Much meditation had led to this point, and he wasn't about to run away now that he had made up his mind. It was, after all, a step in the right direction, or so he supposed.

Treading lightly, careful not to slip, mindful to avoid the small lakes in the dark street formed by the constant raining, he made up his way to the tiny, non-remarkable house, a small home that didn't particularly stand out among its equally forgettable companions, other houses that seemed as grey as the sky above them in the dank night. The man walked on, not making a sound, turning his face away when a car passed through, his face darkened by the hood he was wearing, appearing no more than another of the countless hobos that lived in the streets. He didn't even register that the car had splashed him as it passed by; so wet he already was.

The man's worn out boots made their first sound as he stepped upon the sidewalk. He stood very still for a moment, as if hesitating, carefully sensing his surroundings. Then, shaking his head, he came to the front door of the house, his objective.

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Hal Emmerich, Ph. D. That was his name. He was also known as Otacon, both by his friends - none as of now - and in the net. He was one of the world's leading experts in engineering, and a true pioneer in the field of robotic applied sciences. His work had redefined the world, had made change on a scale to be compared to the Manhattan Project, had marked him in history as a man that had made a significant difference in science, politics and warfare.

What a legacy to have! He often wished he were just another faceless man, another worker at any random office, a schoolteacher, anything that was far away from the field he had chosen, safely far from the guilt that haunted him day and night. For he, Hal Emmerich, had been the creator of Metal Gear REX, a ruinous weapon that could spell doomsday any other day, bringing the death of countless of innocents with just the touch of one button. The thought never left his mind.

Currently, Hal Emmerich was sighing with exhaustion, rubbing his sore eyes beneath their glasses, determined to finish this bothersome load of work before calling it a day. Setting up a working firewall for that big law firm wasn't particularly hard for a man of his skill and talent, but it certainly took time, as the empty coffee mugs next to his computer showed. The screen was the only thing shedding light in the room, a small living room belonging to the tiny house he had rented merely a month ago, after coming from visiting relatives in England feeling lonelier than ever. The room had no life aside from the screens of his computers, all turned off now except the one he was using; the couch was old and tough, the chairs creaked crankily, the kitchen was empty and the sink was filled with dirty dishes.

Otacon yawned, staring out to the ceiling above, trying hard to find a reason to stay awake. The clock above his fridge, that old thing that belonged to the owner of the house, kept ticking with a constant beat that almost lulled him to sleep. Outside, the rain echoed the drum, so distant and repetitive, so imprecise...

Toc! Toc! Toc!

Otacon jumped in his seat, startled. Had he dozed off and heard something - an augmented reply of the clock's ticking - in his sleep? Or had there really been someone knocking on his door, so late in the night, or rather, the early hours of morning of the next day? He looked at the front door with concern. It was late, he wasn't on the best part of town, and Chicago wasn't without its fair share of crime. What should he do?

Toc! Toc! Toc!

The second set of powerful knocking dispelled any and all comforting thoughts of having merely dozed off and dreamt the first one. Otacon stood up slowly - not without some numbness, as he had been sitting for the past four hours - and approached the door carefully. It was one thirty in the morning. No rational man would knock at this time. And yet, here he was, and outside there was someone knocking, persistently calling for him. Standing next to the door, Otacon wished more than ever to have a peephole in it. But he wasn't that lucky.

Toc! Toc! Toc!

"Who... who's there?" Otacon asked with a shaky voice.

"Open up," a gruff voice came from the other side.

Hearing someone reply made Otacon's skin crawl. It made the situation so much more real, more dangerous. The voice was hoarse, and threatening, and edgy, and Otacon didn't know why - and it would take him many nights to find out - but he opened the door before he realized what he was doing.

The door was open and Hal Emmerich let out a gasp. For in front of him was a man that looked like he had been living in the harshest wilderness for months. His face was rough and haggard, his eyes - piercing bright blue - were muddled and lost in a haunted expression, his cheeks were hollow, he had a messy untamed beard whose strands reached down to his chest and his hair, even beneath a dirty hood, was a mess. The man was wearing the kind of clothes Otacon had seen in so many homeless people, a mere oilcloth and ragged jacket underneath, and pants whose color he couldn't recognize.

But none of that was what had truly surprised Hal Emmerich. The real shock was that he knew who the man was.

"Solid Snake!"

It was him. Otacon was sure of it. He would recognize that face anywhere. Consumed as he looked, Solid Snake still had the same sharp features, the same high cheekbones, the same furrowed brow and square jaw. And even though his eyes seemed tired, they still had that same expression, of alert and experience beyond their years. The last time Otacon had seen the man was on Shadow Moses Island, next to the corpse of Sniper Wolf, a woman Otacon had come to love. A woman Solid Snake had killed.

'Snake! What was she fighting for? And what am I fighting for? What are you fighting for!?'

'If we make it through this, I'll tell you.'

All those thoughts flashed through Otacon's mind in an instant, and during that instant all he and Solid Snake did was to stare at each other, measuring the other man up.

It was Snake that broke the silence "Otacon," he said looking up with a sigh, with that low growl that made his voice impossible to mistake "Are you going to let me inside?" he fixed the scientist with his eyes. A cold breeze stormed by, making the rain drops splash Otacon for a moment.

"I-I..." Otacon stuttered for a moment. He pushed his glasses up "O-Of course. Come in."

Snake didn't make him repeat himself. He strode in, walking past the engineer, taking in his surroundings, absently looking around. Behind him, Otacon closed the door. The downpour outside became distant again.

Otacon oddly didn't feel threatened anymore. This man, who was one of the deadliest alive, who had killed the woman he loved, and who had tracked him down - Otacon truly didn't know how - for reasons Hal ignored, was the closest thing he had to a friend.

"So this is your place, huh," Snake mused, nodding "It resembles what I had imagined. But I thought you'd have better taste for furniture," he seemed amused, and tired.

Otacon had never seen him act this way. Gone was the man that took on unfathomable odds without raising an eyebrow, who did impossible things without loosing his cool, who appeared to be a stronghold of confidence and professionalism; now, he looked uncertain, defeated. The clothes he wore weren't the sign of that. It was him that gave off that impression "Snake... what are you doing here?" Otacon had to ask, trying to understand. This whole situation was bizarre.

Snake blinked and didn't answer outright. He looked down, then to the side, then up, and then finally back to Otacon "I've been trying to contact you through the codec," he said, not really answering the question "But all I get when I call you is static. I don't know if it's my codec that's broken, or yours."

"Well..." Otacon hesitated and decided to play along "Have you tried calling someone else? You also have Campbell's frequency, and Meryl's, right? Did you call either of them?"

"...No."

Otacon realized now he had said the wrong words "Well, perhaps we can try to fix it," he offered as a way to ease things up "I could take a look at it, if you want."

Snake hummed positively and remained silent. Otacon didn't know how to continue the conversation. The clock's ticking suddenly became louder to him.

"Mind if I grab something from your fridge?" Snake asked brusquely. Not listening to Otacon's affirmative reply, he opened the fridge and grabbed a can of soda. Otacon couldn't help but wonder when it had last been that Snake had eaten something. Beneath the bulky oilcloth, a thin figure could be seen.

"Have a seat..." Otacon said, grabbing two chairs and setting them in the dining room. He didn't sit down.

Snake stood by the chair, absently caressing it "Do you remember our last talk? When was it?"

"About four months ago, I think?" Otacon answered, puzzled. Then his composure broke, and he blurted out "Snake, where have you been all this time? What have you been doing!? Last time we talked, you were in Alaska, in your own home!"

Snake sat down, sighing. He got out a pack of cigarettes from a pocket in his jacket and lit one up "I've been travelling ever since," he said, taking a drag and blowing out the smoke "All the way to Seattle. Once I learned you were here, I came over."

"Travelling...? Surely you don't mean on foot!?" Otacon gasped as realization dawned on him. Snake didn't deny the point, and Otacon's stupefaction magnified tenfold "Are you insane!? You could have died!"

Snake looked at him square in the eye.

"Oh my..." Otacon looked down, looked away, grasping his nose, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden "Oh my..."

"Otacon," Snake snapped, sounding like his old self for the first time "Last time we talked, we had both heard rumors about Ocelot spreading the blueprints of Metal Gear. Have you got any word about it ever since?"

"Wha...? Errr, yes," Otacon replied, pushing his glasses up "Yes, I did hear some things. But what does that have to do with you? Why leave your house in

Alaska? Have you been living like a homeless all this time?"

"What did you hear?" Snake pressed bluntly "What do you know?"

Otacon gave up "Ocelot is selling Metal Gear REX's blueprints all over the black market," he sighed, feeling his shoulders sag "Last I heard, he's making deals with Third World governments that think a nuclear weapon will give them dominance over their neighboring countries, and against rebel factions," he rubbed his eyes "And that's not all. He's already sold them to some bigger powers, like China or India. It's... it's the dawn of a new nuclear arms race."

He took two hesitant steps away from Snake, looking to a wall, as if seeking an answer there "And it's scientists like me that are responsible for it. We are the unknowing pawns... the ones that do their dirty work for them."

"You can also do something about it," Snake said, standing close behind him. Otacon hadn't heard him come close "You have the chance to stop this. We both started this, Otacon, and we can't change that; it's our burden to carry. But maybe we can try to redeem ourselves."

"I... what?" Otacon rubbed his forehead, and his nose, shutting his eyes tightly "I... is that... is that what you've been trying to do all this time?"

Snake blew out some air and turned around quickly, looking away. Otacon found that he couldn't keep looking; he closed his eyes again, trying to get a hold of himself. Oh, how he hated Solid Snake in that very same moment; how he hated the man for coming, for being here, for asking precisely the question Otacon was very familiar deep down but dared not to ask himself.

Was there something he could do about the situation? Was there something he could do to atone for his mistakes?

"You are the man that designed Metal Gear," Snake said, still looking away "And I'm used to fighting the damned things. That alone gives us a lot of resources to do this, Otacon."

Hal Emmerich turned around as well, looking at the wall, looking away, desperate not to hear what Solid Snake was saying, pleading his senses not to pick up what was going on around him. But his ears worked as well as always, betraying him.

"We can put an end to this," Snake said "Stop this threat for good," Otacon's hands clenched "We can destroy every Metal Gear REX that's been built because of us."

Otacon lost his cool.

"No!" he snapped "I... no. It's... it's just insane. It's insane! It... It can't be done!" His voice had grown weaker with each word, until they became but whimpers.

"You didn't think so when we last talked, four months ago." Snake was having none of it.

"That was..."

"What? A fluke?" the spy growled, irritated and angry "You got carried away, and you didn't mean to? Or did you get second thoughts in between then and now?"

He just didn't seem to understand what this would mean for Otacon. Solid Snake may have lived his whole life on the line, well aware that he was on the edge of sanity, in the brink of death, be it by an enemy's hand or by the eventual loss of his willpower; but Hal Emmerich had never lived by those rules, had never known what it was to be aware deep down that every day, any day at all, could be his last. When faced with the choice, Otacon found he didn't want to live like that "You are a man that fights terrorists to save the world," he said dejectedly, beaten "Me, I'm just... Otacon, nothing but a guy that attends many otaku conventions." He stood there silently, looking at his feet.

Snake remained silent as well. Whether it was because he wanted to give Hal some space, or because he was trying to overcome his disappointment, Otacon truly didn't know.

"...I'm going to sleep," Otacon said, still looking down "You can help yourself to anything you want, and take a shower, too, and sleep on the couch if you like. And we can try to contact Mei Ling, or Nastasha, tomorrow if you like, after I fix your codec. Perhaps they'll be more useful to you than I am."

Otacon left the room with meek short steps, not once looking up. Snake remained still as a statue, following Hal's figure with his eyes until he couldn't anymore without turning around. When the door to Otacon's bedroom closed, the former spy stood there with absent eyes, staring at nowhere.

He finally sighed and sat down on the couch, closing his eyes.

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X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X- X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **The Survivors** X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X- X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

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Try as he might, Otacon couldn't fall asleep. That wasn't surprising considering the day's events, but a part of him had still held on to the thought that maybe he would rest his head on the pillow and forget about everything until next morning; it turned out that he wasn't that lucky.

The bed creaked as Otacon turned yet again, this time lying on his right side, trying to shut his mind up. It was impossible.

Could he and Snake really attempt to destroy all Metal Gear REX that had been built ever since Shadow Moses? Could they really go on that crusade with any hope of success? Snake seemed to believe so. But that was foolish, impossible even in Otacon's mind. Yes, he had supported the idea a few months ago, when they last talked about the spreading of REX variations throughout the world, but everything was so different back then... Snake was in Alaska, still living with Meryl, and Hal was still reeling from the shock he'd been through during the terrorist takeover. Now, now that he was settling to a quiet life, away from such horrors, was he willing to throw that out the window and go down such a threatening path?

Besides, he was just a man! Just another faceless man, completely average...

But a certain part of his mind wouldn't let him find any respite in those words, exposing him to haunting thoughts. He wasn't just another man. Like it or not, he was different... for normal men didn't commit sins in a scale as he had. Normal men didn't create weapons of mass destruction, didn't build them so perfect that there would be no accurate way of keeping them in check. No, Hal Emmerich was far from average, far from being just a man. He was way worse.

He turned on his bed and stared across his dark room, with just barely enough light to make out the shape of his anime collectibles. The mechas that starred in Gundam Wing, Evangelion, Robotech and Gunbuster stared back, unmoving, cold under the scarce light. What used to be a source of inspiration, a source of passion for his work, now loomed void and lifeless. Damn! What an idiot he had been! How could he have been so stupid to believe that the real world was like that of his favorite series! To believe that through science, he could build something wonderful, something good for mankind... The world was too twisted a place for dreams like that.

Otacon sat up in bed and looked down, eyes tightly shut, pinching his nose hard, trying to reign in on his quickening breathing. It was because of him that a monster now roamed the world. The guilt was eating him alive; all the feelings he had managed to bury had been reawakened by Solid Snake's reappearance. But Otacon couldn't be mad at the man anymore; it wasn't Snake's fault that Otacon had been too naive to realize he was being used.

The scientist started to muse about the talk he'd had with his former ally. Did Snake really believe it was possible to stop the Metal Gear threat for good? He seemed to. But something about him felt off. The steely resolve, the overpowering will, they had appeared fickle during the night's talk, very unlike the man Otacon had first known Snake to be, who never hesitated since doing so could mean the difference between life and death for him. As far-fetched as it sounded, Solid Snake was unsure about this. And if he was unsure, what was left for Hal Emmerich, the weakling that wet his pants in the face of true danger?

Otacon kept thinking for hours. Little by little did his eyes grow tired, and he never realized when was it that he stopped reflecting about everything and fell asleep. But the wishful part of his mind that hoped sleep would make everything good again had been right about something; when Hal woke up, he had made a decision, and he almost felt confident about it.

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X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X- X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **The Survivors** X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

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The alarm rang loudly, insistently.

Otacon woke up feeling as if he had slept nothing. Fighting a headache, he got dressed and stood up. Yawning, the geek tried to piece together what had happened last night. Setting up that firewall sure took more time than he had imagined... Otacon rubbed his eyes and nose and stretched his arms, trying to wake himself up properly. Sighing, he went to the bathroom to freshen up.

He left the bathroom and went to his living room. Solid Snake was standing there.

Otacon gasped as everything came back to him. Last night. Snake's arrival. Snake's proposal; Otacon's refusal. And after going to bed, his decision. His resolve.

"Morning," Snake grumbled "You're an early riser." The clock marked seven o'clock.

"Y-yeah," Otacon replied "I... try to keep a healthy routine. You know, with work and all of that, I don't see many people... I need to see some daylight at least. And-"

"You talk too much," Snake dismissed him "I borrowed some of your clothes." He was wearing an old pair of Hal's jeans, a shirt and a gray hoodie; all garments fit him too tight, but they were better than the rags he had been wearing the previous night. Otacon noticed, as his mind cleared, that Snake had cut his own hair to shoulder length, enough to look somewhat presentable. As for the beard, he had trimmed it to a normal standard as well "I'll be on my way now. I'll send you some cash later today for the clothes."

"Wait! You're leaving?" Otacon asked, taking a step forward.

Snake was already making his way to the door. He turned his head around, staring at Hal sideways "I shouldn't have come here, Otacon. You have settled down and you don't need this in your life. It's better this way. Besides, I don't want to have to drag you around with me."

But Otacon stopped him again "You... really think we could do this?"

Snake remained still, looking away. Otacon could have sworn the silence pierced his ears.

"I think it's a lost cause. But I forgot I'm the only lost man in here. It was a mistake to ask you to do this with me, Otacon. You wanted a clean slate after Shadow Moses, right? I remember you said you wanted to study psychology. It's not a bad choice." He smiled briefly, then he checked the clock on the wall. For the faintest of moments, Otacon glimpsed a forlorn look in the other man's eyes. Snake stood there, like an old lion, veteran of one too many battles.

Then he went to the front door.

"No..." Otacon shook his head "No, it is. It is a bad choice." Snake looked at him, his face unreadable "I used to think that I could start over," Otacon went on, looking to the floor "That I could dedicate myself to a new field, and begin anew. But now... now I realize that I can't hide from the past if I want to really move on. I need to acknowledge it, and do something about it."

He gulped, feeling a lump in his throat "Truth is... ever since Shadow Moses, I've felt so guilty that sometimes I think I'm burning inside. Sometimes, I can't even sleep. And it's worsening every day. This regret is killing me."

"Regret only makes you weaker," Snake said, quoting his own philosophy "Don't regret the past, learn from it. You can still do something about this."

"I know. And it's not just for myself, either; I also need to do this, for the sake of the world."

Again there was silence.

"I'm tired of hiding," Otacon reflected "From now on, I'm going to stand on my own two feet."

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X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X- X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **The Survivors** X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

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Otacon handed Snake one of the mugs, filled with steaming-hot coffee.

"Just how much damage you think Ocelot's done in the past six months?" Snake said after taking a sip.

"A lot," Otacon replied "He's been selling the REX blueprints in the black market, to anyone with pockets deep enough to buy. I figure he must have amassed a fortune by now, enough to buy a decent-sized country. And not just to the superpowers, but rogue states, too."

"Ever since the collapse of the Soviet Union, nuclear arsenals built to enforce the idea of mutually assured destruction have lost their justification, and the deterrent argument has lost ground," Snake said grimly "Priority lies now with smaller weapons that can be carried by stealth bombers."

"Yes, and REX can fire a stealth nuke," Otacon noted "with its affinity for rough terrain, REX would be extremely difficult to discover and destroy. Hence, it's the perfect nuclear strike system for rogue states."

"If non-democratic countries get a hold of Metal Gear, the resulting upset in the balance of military power will lead to a massive rupture in world order."

"I'm afraid so. It will be a whole game-change."

"Which makes our mission all the more important." Snake lit up a cigarette, thoughtful.

"Yes, I agree. Considering the time and money building a Gear costs, I'd say probably none have been completed yet. If we act fast, maybe we can stop this threat now, before it's too late."

Snake nodded "Otacon," he said, fixing his eyes on the other man's "Can you help me?"

The otaku nodded back "I know I can track one of them down, but it's probably going to take some time. Which leads us to the question of what are we going to do right now. We're going to need a bigger apartment, and you're gonna have to find a job..."

Snake snorted with a smile "Otacon, I do have some money saved. Being a soldier doesn't kill your common sense, you know." Then again, he had willingly been living like a hobo for the past months "Well, not completely anyway," he added for good measure.

"Okay, that settles that, I guess," Hal scratched his head "We should try to get organized as quickly as we can, then. The faster we act, the better our odds of success."

"All I need is your brain," Snake declared, frowning "Just point me in the right direction and tell me how to destroy the damned things, and I'll do the rest."

"Now, wait a minute!" Otacon protested "This is your mission just as much as it is mine. Maybe I can't pick up a gun and fight, but I'll be just as important for the cause! If you want to work with me, we'll be partners with equal say and relevance."

"You sure you can handle that pressure?"

"I've made up my mind."

Snake regarded the other man with calculating eyes. Otacon probably was still too innocent to realize what his words meant. But then again, the guy had already been through hell in Shadow Moses, and even then he had shown resolve in the face of war and death "Fine," Snake relented "We'll work as a unit, then."

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X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **The Survivors** X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X- X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X

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**Boston, Massachusetts**

**August 2005**

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It was raining in Boston. The downpour made the skyline blurry, with grey skies mourning over grey and black buildings that towered above the streets, frenzied with the activity of midday. Sitting next to the window of her small but well-polished apartment, Nastasha Romanenko surveyed the people below.

Another cigarette went into the ashtray on top of the desk that lay next to the window. The apartment reeked of smoke. Nastasha opened the window slightly to get some fresh air in, and had to don her jacket to fight off the cold. Autumn had come early to New England.

Nastasha took yet another look around her living room and then eyed the monitor in front of her. It was pointless: the screen showed the same results she had seen barely a few minutes ago, the same information that was given to her when she tried to contact the DIA. Richard Ames, her ex-husband and the man that had helped her survive the cleanup after Shadow Moses, wasn't listed as a member of the organization. According to the DIA database, he had never worked for the unit, which was a ridiculous lie as Nastasha knew more than well enough.

Had he been punished for letting her live considering how much she knew about the incident? Had he been killed for giving her a disc containing all the information on the killer virus FOXDIE, the undeniable evidence of the government's actions throughout the crisis? The mere thought gave her Goosebumps. Nastasha lit another cigarette after noticing the coffee had gone cold in its mug.

She was being watched. The hidden cameras made some whirring noises at night, whenever they shifted their lenses to properly focus on her. Nastasha was smart enough to figure out her phone had been hacked. The landlord kept close tabs on her; Nastasha knew it because he frankly didn't try to hide it. And she had caught the man living in the apartment next to hers following her on the streets, three times last week.

Nastasha Romanenko was being watched. Nastasha Romanenko was a target. And the only reason she hadn't been killed yet was that disc she had been given, that little disc that could bring about so much chaos to the nation. The disc that spelled the truth of the Shadow Moses Incident.

However, what really bugged Nastasha was, who was it that was watching her? Who were the people behind the cameras, the people who had hired henchmen to track her every move?

Was it the Pentagon?

Or perhaps... the Patriots?

Nastasha had never heard of them before the Incident. But she hadn't forgotten Liquid Snake's words, when he promised to go after them. She hadn't forgotten her ex-husband's reply to the late terrorist, believing him foolish for trying to fight that organization. Any and all research she had done looking for The Patriots had met a dead end. They were nothing but a rumor, fleeting words whispered only in the deepest pits of the net... they were ghosts, and yet their influence seemed to be everywhere. At least, anyone who seemed to know something even remotely related to them was too afraid to talk about the issue.

And now Nastasha was a prisoner, perhaps a prisoner of that shady group. And she was powerless to resist that situation. She wasn't a soldier or an agent, and she had been found easily enough after she tried to disappear. Both fight and flight were impossible.

And so Nastasha wrote. Secretly, as carefully as she could, she wrote the happenings of the Shadow Moses Incident into a book that now amounted for more than two hundred pages and counting. Maybe she was a prisoner, but this prisoner still had some fight left in her. And maybe, one day she would get the chance to let other people learn the truth, the unofficial truth of what had happened...

In the Darkness of Shadow Moses.

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**Author Notes 2:** I hope you liked this one! Even though it cost me a lot to write it, I'm still rather pleased at how it turned out. Let me hear your thoughts on this chapter by leaving a review!

Thanks a lot for reading.


	2. The Survivors - Part II

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the Metal Gear character or the Metal Gear franchise. They belong to Hideo Kojima, Yoji Shinkawa, Kojima Productions and Konami studios.

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**Author Notes:** Hello guys! Here's the second part of the first episode, The Survivors. I finished writing this about a month ago, and I've been busy editing it as well as writing future updates.

This chapter is a bit shorter, but it deals with character development and that's something I'm focusing on for this story. I hope you like it, and don't forget to leave a review!

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Devil Boss

**Metal Gear Solid - The Philanthropists**

**Episode 1: The Survivors, Part II**

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Otacon crossed the street swiftly and almost hugged himself to fight off the cold. His mind, though, was elsewhere. What a week he'd just had. His life had been turned upside down ever since Solid Snake decided to show up one late night and ask for help in destroying Metal Gear. At first, Otacon held really little hopes of their... endeavor to work, firstly because of themselves. Neither he nor Snake were particularly good with people, and Hal honestly didn't think they would last long. But, surprisingly, both he and Snake made quite a solid team, and they even got along properly too, respecting each other's space and cooperating to make things smoother. Otacon found himself wondering about that several times; he suspected that the reason he and Snake got along so well was that they were both outcasts. They both knew well what aspects of people confused and annoyed them, and they strived to better those aspects about themselves.

Not much talking was done in the apartment.

Once the decision to act had been made, Snake had been swift. He had quickly ditched the rags he'd been wearing, bought some new clothes with funds taken from one of his bank accounts, and started a rigorous training regimen to get himself back into fighting shape. Eating healthy food did him quite good, and he could feel his body growing stronger with each passing day. He wasn't so thin anymore, something he hadn't noticed until Otacon pointed it out one day.

Otacon himself could feel a change of heart. He wasn't so gloomy now; he didn't feel so depressed; he woke up with a smile a couple of times. The idea of finally doing something useful, of taking a stand for what he thought was right, was immensely rewarding. Setting himself to work for that end was refreshing, to the point that he didn't feel tired anymore - something that had become usual of him in past weeks, even when he got enough sleep - and always felt like doing more before calling it a day.

'Still, what a week,' the otaku mused, hurrying to cross a street before the light turned green again 'I wonder if I'm crazy for doing this...'

There was a cigarette in the sidewalk, just another small display of pollution in the city, a tiny thing that people were too busy or indifferent to care about. Otacon walked past it, recalling a brief - very brief - talk he had with Snake about the issue.

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_Snake lit up a cigarette and took several puffs._

_"You still smoke?" Otacon asked, looking up from the screens. He had hoped the habit would have disappeared during his friend's time in the wild._

_"Yes," Snake said simply, and became silent again._

_While the talk itself had been brief indeed, they did have a long argument about indoor smoking a few hours later, when Otacon finally got tired of the smell of cigarettes. They settled for Snake smoking inside, but next to an open window._

.

He was close to his home now; the grey streets filled with puddles of water, the decaying houses, and the cars that passed swiftly by, as if not wanting to remain there longer than they had to; it all formed the picture of the neighborhood Otacon had chosen to live in. As he came within two blocks, Otacon pressed a hand to his right ear, turning on the codec and making a short call. Twice he let the device ring, and then he ended the call.

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_"Were you able to fix my codec?" Snake asked one morning, smoking next to an open window._

_"Hmm, that was child's play," Hal said "But the thing is, we can't make it work like it used to. The codec relies on the nanomachines to work properly, so that the other end can tap into the frequency and listen and even see you talk. However, since the battery of your nanomachines has already died out..."_

_"The codec has no energy to draw on from."_

_"Exactly. But that doesn't mean I can't get it to work; it will be a little different from before, that's all. From now on, you'll have to carry a small battery with you, and plug it to the codec on your ear. But since you didn't keep the monitor that came with your Soliton Radar from Shadow Moses, we won't be able to see each other during your missions. And the signal might be a bit weaker at times... I'll have to calibrate it, once we get some field data._

_"Got it. So in other words, I'll be using a more primitive version of my codec, after a fashion."_

_"Something like that," Otacon bit his lip, with a face that said 'sorry' "We can't afford some of the toys that come from working with the government."_

_But Snake smiled "No problem. I wasn't planning on relying too much on gadgets to begin with."_

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Otacon got an incoming call from frequency 141.80 when he was barely a block away from home. Twice it rang, and then it died out.

Snake insisted on keeping security codes whenever one of them went out.

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_"I really don't see the point of this, Snake..." Otacon sighed, rubbing his eyes before putting his glasses on again. It was three in the morning, and the geek only wanted to get some sleep after a whole day tracking accounts on the net on the hunt for Metal Gear._

_"You don't see the point of taking safety measures?" Snake grunted, equally annoyed "Should someone follow us here, we'll be compromised. If we can't talk, a codec call should do the trick to let each other know there's trouble. One ring means that, two mean everything's okay. How much simpler can it get?"_

_"Why would anyone try to follow us? Why would anyone care to attack us?" Otacon retorted, irritated; simple as the idea was, his brain didn't feel like learning anything else for the day._

_"Why? Could have to do with the fact that we're two survivors of an incident the government's trying to cover up as hard as they can. There's a reason Shadow Moses doesn't come up on the news."_

_"The government? They wouldn't hurt two civilians doing nothing illegal!"_

_"You think they aren't capable of it? You think it hasn't happened before? Don't be an idiot, Otacon. The big guys in the Pentagon aren't white knights; they'll want to cover their asses if they see a threat coming their way. Two Shadow Moses survivors teaming up? That's bad news for them."_

_"Still, it's not possible! If they wanted us dead, we would be. You may have gone underground, but I haven't been trying to hide, actually."_

_"If it's not the government, then someone else will do it." When Otacon tried to protest, Snake interrupted him "You think people seeking to build their Metal Gear won't find the guy who designed the damned things useful? Damn it, Otacon, you stubborn fool!" the former mercenary stood up and paced the room._

_"Okay, okay, jeez," Otacon made placating gestures with his hands and rubbed his eyes again "What were the security codes again?"_

.

As he made his way through the walkway, Otacon spotted a young man carrying a small laptop, precisely the same model he used. The otaku grinned to himself, approving of the young man's taste. But, just like everything in the past days, the thought reminded him of something he had talked about with Snake.

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_It was Snake that usually started the important conversations. Otacon was starting to get used to his direct approach; whenever something needed to be done, Snake was nothing if not pragmatic. So Hal wasn't very surprised when one afternoon he came back from a meeting with another client - unlike Snake, Otacon did keep a job - and got himself in the middle of yet another relevant talk._

_"You're going to need a hell of a lot more processing power if you're going to be hacking protected sites from now on," Snake said suddenly, without any break from his bout of pushups._

_Otacon kept preparing himself a sandwich without missing a beat. Snake's bluntness wasn't anything new to him anymore "I'm way ahead of you," he said "I have my eye on several computers and integrated systems that would do us a lot of good. But they're not exactly cheap..."_

_"We're going to have to invest some money," Snake said simply, still working out. It felt so weird to talk about investments with him._

_"Yeah, and that's not the only problem," Otacon mumbled absently, biting his lip._

_"What do you mean?" Snake's hearing was superb._

_"Well, there is also the issue of how are we going to get you... you know, guns and stuff."_

_Snake grinned, shaking his head with amusement "I take it you never heard of SSCEN, in Natick, Massachusetts, right?"_

_"What? No," Otacon had no idea what his comrade was talking about._

_"Never mind. I'm going to make a trip to Boston."_

_Snake gave Otacon what accounted for half the costs of the new computers he would be using from now on and then left by plane at night, heading for Greater Boston. He was back one day later, this time with a sneaking suit, a scope with nightvision capabilities, a combat knife, military rations, and a handgun. _

_Otacon asked no questions._

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Otacon stopped at the door and knocked once, then three times quickly, and then two times, slowly. Snake opened the door, let Otacon pass, took a careful peek outside and closed the door again.

Otacon tried to ignore the smell of smoke and sat down in front of his laptop after hanging his coat. Wordlessly, Snake went back to cleaning his guns.

"Snake," Otacon asked suddenly, looking up from his after some time. His partner grunted to acknowledge him, although he kept reassembling his Beretta handgun after cleaning it up "There's something I've been meaning to ask you," Otacon went on, undeterred "Do you still have the Stealth Camo I gave you right after Shadow Moses?" Otacon and Snake had met shortly after the incident, right before Snake left for Alaska with Meryl, his comrade in arms and soon-to-be girlfriend.

Snake grunted again. Otacon took that as yes.

"I was thinking, that Stealth Camo would sure come in handy," Otacon said; that was completely true for him, considering that the device could render a person nearly invisible by deflecting light around the wearer's body. Snake grunted again, almost clicking his tongue this time, but Otacon wasn't very good at picking up hints "Is it still back at your place, in Alaska?"

"Yes."

"How about your Sneaking Suit, the one you used at Shadow Moses?" Otacon pressed further, oblivious to Snake's furrowed brow. The suit Snake had procured from Natick was good, but nothing in comparison with the state-of-the-art outfit he had worn during the terrorist incident months ago "The suit and the Stealth Camo would make things a lot easier for us, right?"

Snake stood up and left the house without a word.

Otacon sat still, puzzled. Only after half an hour of musing on it did he realize his questions may had been inadequate to ask, since Snake clearly didn't want to talk about anything related to his home in Alaska and whatever had happened there.

Luckily for him, when Snake came back that night, he acted completely normal and didn't seem to be particularly upset; his snide remarks about anything and everything were the same as always. Otacon was sometimes grateful neither of them were very adept at handling tricky conversations.

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X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **The Survivors, Part II**

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **The Survivors, Part II**

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Snake was pleasantly surprised when one morning - the ninth morning since he showed up at Otacon's place - said geek greeted him with news that he believed he had found a Metal Gear.

"Really?" the former mercenary felt the urge to ask, since Otacon blurted the words as he raised his head from the desk he had used as pillow the past night. Snake wouldn't have been surprised if Otacon had dreamt about Metal Gear, something Snake himself often did.

"Yeah," Otacon said, rubbing his eyes and putting his glasses back on. Drowsy as he was, that spark of feverish enthusiasm, the same that shone during the constant all-nighters, was quick to appear in his eyes "I tried everything for the past week, but I couldn't pinpoint any bases where a REX might be and it was dangerous to try cracking the firewalls of the CIA, FSB and MI6; those guys know the black market's dealers, but they can't find any Gears, either. I thought that by hacking their satellites I could get some insight, but it didn't do much good, to be honest. I had to break the connection before they managed to trace me."

"So how'd you pull it off?"

"By following money," Otacon nodded proudly "Whoever bought REX sure paid a fortune to Ocelot. It was a mess, but I spotted all financial irregularities in Third World countries that fit into a certain criteria, and tried to trace the money from there. I got hundreds of dead ends, though; a lot of foul play is going on in Africa, Asia and Latin America as well."

"I don't understand. What kind of irregularities did you trace?"

"Buying the prints for a Metal Gear is extremely expensive, way beyond the budget of any country that isn't a superpower. So that was my starting point. We can safely assume all big powers have a Gear by now. So I searched for any and all financial operations, in rogue states, that were big enough to mean a REX blueprint could be involved."

"Now I see why you haven't been sleeping well as of late," Snake whistled and shook his head "Otacon, you found a needle in a haystack. Many multinational companies are involved in Third World countries, even war-torn ones. It was a one in a million shot to find a REX."

"Well, thing is, money is being paid through fake corporations, 'misplaced' government funds and so on," Otacon said, ignoring Snake's remark "Ever since Shadow Moses, REX variants have been popping up everywhere, and there's a whole underground market where the blueprints can be bought. I couldn't get the prints, but I did catch a trace of a huge financial transaction, which I followed and... Violá."

"Hmm... nice job."

The otaku smiled.

"In any case, I'm almost 100% sure that I found a REX variant. It's located in North Africa, close to Sudan, in a country named Bashtur."

"Some Private Military Companies have been working there, ever since Big Boss' fall in Outer Heaven," Snake noted "I remember the war they had with the Republic of Chad a few years ago."

"Many people died in that war, and Bashtur is still reeling from its after-effects. Their heavily militarized society is proof of that," Otacon pushed his glasses up as some pictures showed up on his screen, displaying severe-looking soldiers with AK-47s, tanks, and some child soldiers "Besides, their neighboring state of Darfur is going through a civil war and they're worried that the insurgents over there could cross the border."

"So they think that a Metal Gear will give them a safe haven."

"If they do get to finish REX, I'm sure the Darfur rebels won't come even close to their country. They would become a nuclear power and none of their neighbors would dare to push them. It would be a whole game change."

"Nuclear weapons usually mean that. But it surprises me that the US hasn't sanctioned them yet, or the UN. They've been keeping a strong monitoring policy after the Iraqui War, two years ago."

"The government is still busy with the cover up of the Shadow Moses involvement," Otacon explained sadly "Even though they managed to keep things under control for now, there are rumors going around. Liquid was smart... he triggered the uprising right before our government signed the START III Treaty with Russia and China. You only have to take a look at REX's blueprints to know that it's American-made. We've lost face in the eyes of the world, and our country can't pretend to be the world's police any longer."

"I'm surprised this hasn't reached the public's ears," Snake mused, blowing some smoke "So much for the 'age of information' we're supposed to be living in."

"You wouldn't believe the lengths they're going to in order to keep Shadow Moses secret," Otacon shook his head wearily "You were right a few days ago, Snake. The men in suits of the Pentagon are no white knights. I did some research... witnesses are dying due to accidents, left and right. Even Jim Houseman allegedly shot himself! And that's not it: people, innocent people who just happened to stumble on uncomfortable truths, just disappeared."

"A true country of liberty."

Otacon stood up and paced his living room, holding his chin with one hand "I wonder how much true freedom we are enticed to have..."

"Otacon," Snake raised an eyebrow "You've grown."

The geek pushed his glasses up "Let's do this."

"Tell me everything you know about this base."

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X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **The Survivors, Part II**

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **The Survivors, Part II**

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The truck rumbled as it made its way into the wastelands, under the cover of the dark and a persistent rain. The road the truck was transiting was muddy and filled with treacherous puddles of water; its slippery surface was tricky and could easily send a vehicle sliding away from the way, into the uninviting bushes and boulders that lay at its sides. A non-skilled driver wouldn't have lasted on such a road for long.

Solid Snake squinted to see past the water-soaked windshield; the wipers weren't of much use on this damned weather. He gently swerved right to avoid a bump in the road, and shifted to a lower gear as the truck passed through a slippery batch of mud. The back of the truck was connected to the cockpit; he could see Otacon there, adjusting his computers as best as he could despite the less than ideal conditions. Snake tried to make the trip easy on the geek, but he could only do so much.

"How much longer 'til we get there, Otacon?" he asked, irritated, after a bump nearly sent him out the road "I haven't seen any traces of civilization for the past four hours."

"It shouldn't be much longer," Hal replied, taking a look at a map nearby "Just about another five miles, maybe six. It's not surprising they chose a secluded place to set up their base, given what they're building inside."

"I'm surprised they could get the necessary infrastructure to build a REX so far removed from any place," Snake commented "It must have cost a lot of money, that's for sure."

"How do you think I tracked them here?" Otacon winked cockily. His grin faded as a new thought crossed his mind "Do you think they've seen us already?"

"I don't think so," Snake shook his head "I'm keeping the lights low. Besides, I can't see crap beyond a hundred feet or so. Even with searchlights and binoculars they would have a tough time spotting us. And don't forget that this is a PMC truck. It could pass for one of their own."

Otacon nodded, his nerves not quite soothed. He and Snake had infiltrated Bashtur under fake IDs crafted with names Otacon had created in the net; Snake's expertise in forgery had given them the actual papers. According to their cover, Snake was a mercenary working for Ironclad, a PMC hired by the government to help fight against a group of insurgents armed by the neighboring state of Chad, and Otacon was an engineer and logistics expert for the Company. The fake IDs had been good enough to let the two men into a PMC compound, where Snake had managed to steal an M939 truck and drive off unseen. Otacon had erased all records of their presence in the PMC camp, but he wasn't entirely comfortable with the way things had gone so far. It would only take one person to notice the missing truck, and all the area would be on lockdown. And if he and Snake destroyed a Metal Gear, Otacon did not want the area to be locked down.

The minutes went on and suddenly the truck screeched to a halt. Looking forward, Snake called Otacon.

"What is it?" the otaku asked, unable to see anything past the rain.

"We're here," Snake said, pointing to a barely visible letter at the side of the road. It read 'Camp Sigma' with black letters over a white background.

"How far do you think the base is?" Otacon wrenched his hands together.

"A mile at most," Snake replied "The storm cloaks us, but we shouldn't stay on the road any longer." Before Otacon could stop him, Snake jumped out of the truck with his night-vision binoculars in hand. The otaku watched nervously as his partner scouted the area.

Snake returned, completely soaked but with a cheerful smile "There's a slope next to the road where I can hide the truck in," he said, starting the engine "it's hidden from the road, and there are some bushes there we could use to conceal the truck. Hang on tight, Otacon; it's going to get bumpy."

Otacon didn't need to hear it twice; he grabbed hold of the front seat with one hand, placed his laptop on his lap, and steadied his second computer with the other hand. The engine rumbled and the truck left the road, jumping with every bump and rock it hit. Otacon gasped as the truck started to slip down the slope, hearing the engine roaring futilely and the wheels sliding over the mud. But with a grunt and a well-timed steer, Snake managed to regain control and Otacon blew a sigh of relief as they reached steadier ground. Snake made a tight U-turn and then turned the engine off.

"Showtime," he said, passing above the seats into the back of the truck. Otacon made room as his comrade opened a crate with the gear he would be using for the mission.

Snake's sneaking suit was nothing like the one he had worn at Shadow Moses Island. It was a simple set of dark green pants, with a dark green shirt with the sleeves rolled up at the elbows. Beneath, he was wearing a black, tight long sleeved shirt to protect him from the cold. He had black, fingerless gloves to protect his hands, black knee-pads, and black boots. Now that the time to begin the mission had come, Snake put on a thick belt and clipped his binoculars, a small camera, and a small screen that worked as a primitive version of his old Soliton Radar. A shoulder strap served to carry three ammo clips for his handgun, and Snake strapped a holster to his thigh to sheath it comfortably.

Otacon watched in a haze as Snake made the final preparations. This was one of those moments where he couldn't help but wonder how he had come to this. The meeting with Snake in Chicago, the planning, the trip, even their trick at the PMC camp, it had all seemed... innocent in a way. Like a game, or a dream that he would wake up swiftly from. But now, seeing Snake already gearing up for the mission, everything became so much more real, so terrifyingly real, an act that could and would bring inescapable consequences in his life, a turning point from which he wouldn't be able to come back! He shuddered to think what would happen, should an enemy soldier found the truck with him inside.

"Hey, Snake..." Otacon said, hesitating.

"What?" the former mercenary replied without turning around, adjusting the silencer to his Beretta handgun.

"Hmmm, I... I was thinking..." Otacon heard himself say. Everything seemed almost hazy right now.

"What? What do you want?" Snake snapped at last.

"...Nothing."

"We'll keep touch through the codec, just as we did in Shadow Moses. I'll use the frequency 141.80, got it?"

"Yeah," Otacon nodded 'Just like in Shadow Moses,' Hal thought. Again, Solid Snake would go deep into hostile territory and all Otacon would be able to give was some advice. 'Powerless, again' Otacon thought sadly.

"The truck is well hidden," Snake was saying "Don't leave this place, and stay out of trouble. Don't try to be a hero; I've got enough on my plate as it is."

Otacon didn't know Snake well enough to realize that this was his way of saying 'be careful.' He nodded again "I'll stay here."

Snake hummed in response and holstered his gun. He was ready to leave. Turning around, he made his way out of the truck. The cold rain hit him with full force when he jumped outside.

"Snake!" Otacon called from inside. The spy turned around "Good luck," Hal wished.

Snake shook his head "There's no such thing as luck on the battlefield." He left with no other words, leaving Otacon to his thoughts.

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X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **The Survivors, Part II**

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **The Survivors, Part II**

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Nastasha climbed the last steps to her floor, slightly out of breath. On paper, eight floors to climb didn't seem so much, but the analyst was a heavy smoker after all, and she didn't have the habit of working out often, if at all. But taking the elevator didn't seem like a good idea to her, after one particularly creepy jail guard - as she liked to call them - stared at her threateningly all the way down from her apartment to ground floor.

Should any of those bastards actually try anything, Nastasha always carried a good knife in her pockets. They might be able to kill her, but she wouldn't make it any easier for them.

She made her way through the corridor, searching for her keys. The neighbor from across the hall was standing at his door, looking at her. As soon as he realized he was being watched in turn, he went inside and closed the door. Nastasha could hear him talking with someone. Probably reporting she had returned.

She allowed herself a moment of daydreaming, of her kicking his door in and beating the crap out of him.

The door to Nastasha's apartment creaked a little when she opened it. The apartment was quiet and nothing seemed out of place. The lights were off, and it was hard to see in the dim light of seven o'clock. She turned the power on and hung her coat. Moving tiredly, Nastasha sat down in her couch and removed her shoes, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples.

Her suspicions had been confirmed. One of the men who she had caught following her last week turned out to be a police officer. She had been watching the nearest police station, and indeed the man evidently worked there. The worst part was, the man didn't make any attempt to conceal himself when he spotted Nastasha watching him. Clearly he felt untouchable.

But Nastasha allowed herself a moment of comfort; she had finished writing her book. The only thing left was to think of a title, but all the rest was complete. More than two hundred pages of recounting what had happened in Shadow Moses Island, when FOXHOUND took over the base and tried to start a war. More than two hundred pages of damning evidence against the US government, who had managed the crisis in a less-than-stellar way. The disgusting and frightening truth behind the Metal Gear project, and the sickening reveal of the Les Enfants Terribles program, carried out in the seventies. Nastasha had enough dirt to bury more than one corrupt politician.

Standing up, Nastasha headed to the desk by the window. Turning on her laptop, the woman opened a drawer and dispersed the many small items stored inside absently. Taking a careful look around, Nastasha lifted the bottom of the drawer, revealing a wooden board that acted as a fake cover.

There was nothing inside. Nastasha gasped.

The DVD wasn't there.

Nastasha had to take a moment to process that. Her DVD was missing. The one place where she kept a copy of her book, missing. She had recorded a DVD with the files, and saved them in that pendrive as well, knowing full well her laptop could be hacked any minute. She carried her pendrive with her at all times...

Those bastards had found her only copy of the book! And even if it was encrypted, they wouldn't take more than a couple of hours to crack it!

Panicking, Nastasha stood up. She was as good as dead now! When the government - or was it The Patriots!? - found out what she was up to, she would disappear in an instant, never to be found again. Her body would be thrown into the ocean, or buried in some desert... Taking a step back, the analyst placed a hand over her chest, hyperventilating.

She needed to get a hold of herself right now! Nastasha forced her body to calm down. She had not survived Chernobyl by letting fear get the best of her. All pretense forgotten, she ran to her bedroom and grabbed some clothes. A pair of jeans, white sneakers, a hoodie, leggings and a shirt. Nastasha quickly stuffed them in a bag, grabbed an overcoat and her wallet, and made her way to the front door. Time was running out! But as she was about to open the door, a thought crossed her mind. And Nastasha, cursing herself all the way, sat down in front of her laptop one last time, opened her email account and sent a message to the other Shadow Moses survivors whose addresses she had been able to obtain. To Hal Emmerich, Mei Ling and Meryl Silverburgh, she wrote:

_You're being watched!_

_Jim Houseman didn't shoot himself! Naomi Hunter is missing!_

_The government is covering everything up. I'm next on their list._

_Watch your backs._

_N.R._

That was all she could think of on such short notice. Leaving both her laptop and cell phone behind, Nastasha made her way out of the apartment. She opened the door and found herself face to face with her neighbor.

She acted first, without stopping to think. Nastasha kicked him in the shin and stabbed with the knife, managing to graze the man's arm. He cried out, trying to hold on to her coat, but a swift punch to the throat was enough to put him down for the moment. Decided not to waste any time, Nastasha ran away, taking the auxiliary stairs down. She reached ground floor and left the building through a side entrance she had been careful to note beforehand. Finding herself in a small, dirty and wet alley, Nastasha disappeared in the city. The hunt was on. She could only wonder how long did she have.

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**Author Notes 2:** As usual, I hope you liked this update. Finally Snake and Otacon get in motion; this is their first mission together, and as you may have seen, it does seem a little rushed for them to jump in on something so big, so fast. We'll deal with that later.

The Nastasha plotline is heading somewhere, I promise!

See you guys soon! I'll be updating next month. As always, leaving a review would be great.


	3. Suicide Mission - Part 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the Metal Gear character or the Metal Gear franchise. They belong to Hideo Kojima, Yoji Shinkawa, Kojima Productions and Konami studios.

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**Author Notes:** Kind greetings to you all. Here's the newest chapter of this fic; it was written about two months ago, but it took me this long to post it because I had to rewrite some things, as well as fit in new plotlines better to make future updates easier to read and also more engaging.

I've come to the conclusion that this fic will be a bit longer than I had originally planned. My former plan was to make ten episodes, some of them divided in two chapters each, but since I'm still halfway on the first episode with another update coming, it will have to change somewhat. I'm thinking it will take me about fifteen to twenty chapters to finish this... which already feels quite daunting. But since I've already finished writing three more chapters after this one and planned all the the others, I'm confident I'll see this through, so long as you like it.

Many thanks for all your support! It's very encouraging to have such great readers as you guys. As usual, hope you like this chapter, and don't forget to review.

Devil Boss

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**Metal Gear Solid - The Philanthropists**

**Episode 2: Suicide Mission, Part I**

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The bus' engine rumbled and the vehicle got away, trying hard to find some room in the cramped streets. Nastasha Romanenko looked around, trying to get a hold of her surroundings. New York City was as noisy as she remembered it. Thousands upon thousands of people going about their daily business, sharing a common space but remaining perfect strangers made for a strange mood. The sheer thought of how many people walked these streets was enough to humble Nastasha, a native of a small town in Ukraine. But she couldn't help being glad about New York's overpopulation right now; it provided the best cover she could wish for.

Dressed in a dark hoodie, white sneakers and tight leggings, Nastasha felt far removed from her usually polished and quite imposing presence. Cheap shades hastily bought helped to better conceal her face. The disguise wasn't flattering at all on her, but Nastasha prided herself in being a resourceful person. She was above such vanity.

Nastasha hardened her resolve and willed herself to get in motion. She was a target now, just like Jim Houseman and Naomi Hunter - and Richard Ames? - had been, and time was scarce for someone in her position. She needed to find a place to stay, a place where she wouldn't stand out, and then...

Nastasha knew all too well what she had to do next. She would go to a publishing house and attempt to get her book released to the public. It was a suicide quest and she knew it... but Nastasha was tired of being a bystander while important things happened. Many people had died because of the government's lunacy and she would not stand for it.

The afternoon wore on while she searched for a good place to settle for the brief time she was planning to be in New York. She had found a nice, small hotel by dusk. Next day, the action would begin.

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X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X** Suicide Mission, Part I**

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X** Suicide Mission, Part I**

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The base was located in a wide valley, bordered to the south and west by rocky slopes, and by a taller hill on the eastern side, with its northern side looking at a expansive plain that was hard to see in the rainy night. Bordered by a twelve-foot fence on all sides, and kept under close scrutiny by several tall watchtowers, the one-mile-wide base was well guarded. A closer look with Snake's binoculars showed the compound to be bristling with activity, even in such an unforgiving night. There were trucks coming in through a highly guarded gate at the northern side, and many men inside the base were unloading their cargo near a set of large buildings in the center of the complex. Overall, this wasn't going to be a walk in the park.

"Do you read me, Snake?" Otacon's voice came through the codec after the device made a low whistle only Snake could hear.

"Yeah, I read you," Snake said, pressing a finger to his ear to listen better "I'm just outside the compound. Security is quite tight, getting in there isn't going to be easy."

"Ehem..." Otacon seemed unsure of what to say to that "Well, I guess that proves our suspicions right, doesn't it? Only a Metal Gear would be so well protected."

"You could be right," Snake mumbled.

"Let's go through the operation's objectives one more time," Otacon's voice cracked through the codec. Snake could easily picture him pushing up his glasses as he said the words "You'll have to infiltrate that base and find out where Metal Gear is. Once you find it, you'll have to take pictures of it, and if you can, try to sabotage it; okay?"

"Find Metal Gear, sabotage it," Snake echoed "So long as I can find some explosives to do that. And by the way, you didn't manage to hack anything regarding where Metal Gear is, did you? That base is quite large... finding REX unaided will be tough."

"Sorry, I can't help you with that," Otacon said meekly. Snake grunted to himself "But maybe you could try to interrogate an enemy soldier to get REX's location?"

"Maybe."

"Either way, infiltrate the base and try to get to a control room. There might be blueprints of the base in there, which you can upload to your radar so that you won't get lost. Then, find Metal Gear REX, do your thing, and get out of there fast. You probably don't need me to say that should you get spotted, we'll both be executed for this."

"I got that. It shouldn't take long. In and out in under twenty minutes, home in time for dinner."

"...Really?" Otacon had to ask after some hesitation. After witnessing his partner's exploits in Shadow Moses, he wasn't entirely sure of what Snake's limits truly were.

"Just kidding, Otacon."

"...Oh. Oh," the geek said dumbly "Okay, then. Head into the compound and find where Metal Gear is. If you need me, my frequency is 141.12."

Snake took his hand off his ear and double-checked his gear. The Beretta M9 made up for a safe weight in his hands; Snake had customized it as well as he could, amplifying the gun's maximum accurate range by another thirty feet and reducing recoil to a minimum, as well as equipping it with a laser sight on the bottom and adding a suppressor. Aside from the pistol, all he was carrying was a set of high-tech binoculars, a small and somewhat primitive version of the Soliton Radar he had used in Shadow Moses, and a small camera.

Slowly, carefully at first, Snake started to descend from the western slopes, careful not to trip on the slippery ground, since his boots didn't give him any added grip like the ones of his sneaking suit did. He became more mindful not to attract any attention as he got closer to the fences; there were two watchtowers nearby, one of them inside the perimeter, watching the closest buildings, and another just outside the fences, keeping close tabs on all terrain surrounding the southwest of the compound, precisely where Snake was coming from.

'A lone tower, outside the base's perimeter, guarded by one or maybe two soldiers at best...' Snake thought 'easy to take them out with a sniper rifle, but then their deaths would alert others of intruders. That's a cold tactic; these men are all expendable in their superiors' minds.'

There were large rocks in the slope, some of them big enough to hide behind, some others barely good enough to crouch behind, but it was all Snake would need for now. On top of each watchtower, there was a potent searchlight that constantly swept the fields below. Snake was well used to such measures, and therefore he knew that while anything within the light would be discovered instantly, all that was left outside of it would be nearly invisible due to the powerful contrast between light and dark.

Snake made his move as soon as the searchlight slid away. Running with his back bent forward, he crouched next to a rock and remained perfectly still when the light focused on where he was. But he was invisible to the guard on the tower. As soon as he the light went away yet again, he moved forward, to the bottom of the tower, right beneath the guard above, who never thought of looking that close to his own position.

It would be particularly easy to kill him. Just take a step back, aim and pull the trigger, and he would be one less problem for Snake to deal with. Every muscle and nerve in his body seemed to be itching to do it, to just move, exhale, and pull the trigger.

Taking a deep breath, Snake gripped his handgun tighter and moved on, leaving the watchtower behind. Luckily for both of them, the guard didn't turn around as the former mercenary made his way closer to the fence behind the watchtower.

Snake was quick to find a small gap in the fence; it was bound to happen in a complex as large as this. The hole was small, just a spot where the fence didn't properly meet the ground, but it would be enough for the lean spy to crawl through. Snake did just that, mindful of the watchtower inside the base. But his area wasn't being watched right now. By the time the searchlight swept the fence, Snake was already inside.

"This is Snake," he reported on the codec while hiding behind some crates as some guards walked by "I'm inside the compound."

"Excellent, Snake," Otacon replied, happy and baffled at the same time. No more than two minutes had passed since their last talk, and already Snake had infiltrated the place "Can you see any clues regarding where Metal Gear is?"

"No," Snake replied "I'm making my way deeper into the base right now, but there's no sign of REX. I might have to interrogate someone to find out its location, like you said earlier."

"Look, I'm sure REX is in there; the sheer size of this compound proves it. I doubt that any random grunt will know about Metal Gear, though; this is a highly classified project, after all."

"You may be right," Snake shook his head. Thinking fast as a truck came into view, the commando hid next to a stall and waited for it to pass by "I'll have to find a control room. There's a tower nearby; I wouldn't be surprised if it is the base's surveillance outpost."

"Oh, okay," Otacon agreed after a brief pause "Then make your way there and try to hack into a computer."

"Already on it."

Moving past a group of guards that never heard him, Snake reached the tower he had seen earlier. It was more than sixty feet tall, with clear-colored walls and a fair share of windows. Stationed at ground level, a team of six men guarded the entrance to the tower; taking a close look with his binoculars, Snake spotted MP5 submachine guns, HK45 handguns, Tactical Knives and body armor.

'A heavily armed unit,' Snake thought carefully 'Better to try a different way in.'

There was a small auxiliary ladder on the tower's southern flank, that went all the way up to the roof. Being outside, the ladder was exposed to prying eyes, but Snake thought the risk was acceptable given the harsh rain that dimmed visibility so much; should he keep to the shadows, he might just make it to the top unseen. And Snake did just that: the steps were slippery, but he still made zero noise as he climbed up, careful not to remain on well-lit spots for too long, and always mindful of the tower's windows and any people inside who might be staring out into the stormy night.

Snake reached the top floor without raising the alarms. There was a door that led inside, but it was closed and Snake could see it was heavily armored. Peeking inside through a small window, Snake saw a control room and two armed men idling in chairs. Getting back to the door, the spy noticed that it had no handles, nor any other way to open it. It was designed to be opened from inside. Resigned to deal with that complication, Snake decided to try an age-old trick.

He knocked heavily, insistently, on the door. A moment passed, and Snake knocked again.

"Okay, just a second!" an irritated voice said from inside.

Snake snorted. These goons wouldn't have lasted five minutes in the Cold War.

The door opened and a man came outside, looking for whoever had knocked. Snake didn't give him time to react and grabbed him in a chokehold that left his gun hand free.

"Not. ." he hissed next to the man's ear, tightening the hold on his neck. Terrified, the guard moaned in agreement.

Snake rushed inside, using his enemy as a human shield. The other soldier inside the control room gasped and jumped to his feet, raising his gun.

"Freeze!" Snake shouted, already aware it was to no use. The soldier aimed and shot at him, and Snake used his human shield to save his own life. He shot back with the M9, nailing his enemy in the heart.

Dropping the now dead man in his arms, Snake checked out the room. There were tables with files on them, many computers and plenty of monitors in the walls, showing different parts of the complex. But he had no time to spare; going to the nearest computer, Snake searched the system for the base's blueprints.

'Bingo,' he nodded to himself. The control tower had full access to the entire base's camera feed. The screen displayed a number of windows, all of them showing different parts of the complex. And in one of those windows, titled 'Level B9 - Main Building' a metallic beast was being built.

Downloading a map of the compound was easy enough. His Soliton radar, a small gadget the size of a cell phone, now showed him the map and where he was. And while REX was on the underground levels of the main building, which was farther east, Snake was pleased to see that there was an elevator inside the control tower that led to some subterranean passages connected to the hangar where the Gear was being built.

.

"Okay Snake, that's great," Otacon replied to the spy's report "Then take the elevator to the underground corridors and make your way to Metal Gear."

He cut the call and checked his laptop. So far, there had been no alarms at the PMC camp where they had infiltrated the country. And everything seemed calm here. 'So far, so good,' Otacon allowed himself an encouraging smile.

A vehicle sped past him in the road above, the sound of its engine muffled by the rain. Otacon hugged himself and wished this would be over soon.

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Marcus Cerny had been on guard duty for almost eight hours, and he was sick of it. His attention span wasn't big enough to tirelessly allow him to guard an underground hallway where literally nothing happened. Like many others, Marcus was a mercenary hired to guard the base. It meant easy money, protecting the bowels of a secret base insanely defended on all fronts, and he was glad he had taken the job. However, right now he wished he hadn't. He knew he would change his mind when he got his paycheck, but enduring the long shifts was dull, and worse, oppressive. How he wished for some fresh air right now!

The elevator at the far end of the hallway came and its doors opened with a click. It was the third time that happened in eight hours, and therefore it warranted Marcus' full attention. He stood straight and grabbed his rifle properly, ready to salute whoever came out. But no one did.

Confused, Marcus approached the lift. Not only had no one came out, but the elevator itself seemed empty. Marcus hummed, perplexed. Maybe the thing was malfunctioning? He went inside to check it out.

A lean figure dislodged itself from the lift's ceiling and knocked Marcus out before he realized what was happening.

Solid Snake took the body out of the elevator - it wouldn't be good if someone called the lift and found an unconscious body inside - and checked his surroundings. He was in a corridor, silent and eerie.

There was no one in the hallway, and the bowels of the base were gloomy and dark. Snake made his way forward, careful to keep his steps silent. He didn't do particularly bad, which was quite good considering it had been seven months since the last time. Following the mark on his radar, Snake made a left turn as soon as he could, checking the place from a corner first.

There was a surveillance camera about ten feet above the ground, watching the corridor. The camera scanned both to its right and left, keeping close watch on the hallway it was guarding. Snake smiled. He was used to such security measures. All it took to bypass them was proper timing.

He made a dash forward as soon as the camera turned to look away. Being trained at ninjitsu, Snake managed to make very little noise while running, although his boots made the act somewhat more complicated. The camera turned to look at Snake's side again, but the spy had managed to get right beneath it in the nick of time. Safely hidden in the camera's blind spot, Snake let it sweep the hallway again, waiting for the precise moment to act. Now the camera turned to look to where Snake had originally been. The warrior didn't think twice; he ran away, swiftly making his way through the corridor and taking cover behind a set of lockers he had spotted earlier. No alarms were triggered, which meant he had succeeded. Not bad, indeed.

Scanning his surroundings, Snake smiled slightly as he spotted a small door with a sign in it that read 'Storage Room.' Said room was in another hallway - the base was built like a maze, it seemed; he would have been lost without his radar - guarded by a single soldier armed with an AK47 and with a Colt M1911 strapped to his thigh.

Grabbing a better hold of his Beretta, Snake peeked from cover and aimed at the man's head. The guard was completely unaware of the danger he was in. The sights already aligned, Snake could have easily killed him anytime he wanted. His finger was itching to pull the trigger. But, perhaps... perhaps he could go on without disposing of the sentry. A cold doubt entered his mind, making him hesitate for the barest of instants, and Snake had to take cover behind the corner yet again.

What the hell had been that? He hadn't hesitated to pull a gun's trigger to kill someone ever since he was fourteen years old. Not a single time had he allowed himself to doubt his actions; men like him were well aware that a second's hesitation meant losing one's head, literally. He certainly didn't have any problems when he took out the sentry outside. So why would he have second thoughts now? But as he looked at the enemy guard again, he realized that he truly didn't need to kill this man. Maybe, just maybe, he could try to go on his way without murdering another man; it would certainly be one less thing to worry about when he had nightmares at night.

Moving across the corridor hoping that the guard wouldn't turn his head was one of the tensest moves Snake had done in quite a while. But he got inside the storage room undetected, and the man outside was still breathing.

Sighing in relief, Snake took in the room he had entered. It was quite small, with shelves filled with boxes and some spare weapons. Good.

"Hey, Snake, what are you doing?" Otacon's voice came through the codec "The radars says you've stopped there. Something wrong?"

"Just stocking up on some items and weapons, Otacon," Snake replied, grabbing four more magazines for his Beretta, as well as a flashbang grenade "You never know when you'll get the chance to do it again. Besides, these things may come in handy when it's time to complete the mission," that bit was certainly true, he thought, as he grabbed three C4 charges and strapped them to his second belt. Unfortunately, he had no more room to carry anything else, as a result of his less-than-ideal sneaking suit.

"Have you always done this in your missions?" Otacon asked, intrigued.

"Back at FOXHOUND, my old unit, they called me an expert procurer-on-site. I didn't bring any weapons or gear into my missions that could be traced back to my superiors or my country. I was a nonexistent operative of a nonexistent unit."

"It must have been hard, living like that," Otacon said thoughtfully.

"It was all I knew," Snake replied, quickly crossing back the hallway before the guard watching it turned to look his way. Slowly but surely he made his way deeper into the underground levels of the base.

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X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X** Suicide Mission, Part I**

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X** Suicide Mission, Part I**

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The door opened with a hiss, and Solid Snake was allowed inside. Next to him lay the body of a guard, knocked unconscious and carefully tied up. Stepping cautiously, Snake got inside the very heart of the fortress. It was a huge warehouse, tall and wide, tightly patrolled by armed soldiers and filled with scientists working fervently. Taking a few careful steps forward, Snake found himself in a small catwalk overseeing the hangar. But he only had eyes for one thing.

"Metal Gear..." it was all he could utter at the moment.

Therein was Metal Gear REX, a variant of the nightmarish machine he had to face seven months ago. Snake couldn't shake a sense of deja vu as he stared upon the beast, now tamed in the bowels of the base, still being built, but deadly already and soon to be unleashed upon the world. But this REX was different from the one he was familiar with, the one that still roared strong when he slept at night; this Metal Gear was somewhat smaller, not in height but in width, and it looked a tad thinner than the original prototype. The head and jaws, that formed the cockpit, were also narrower and pointier, and many wires were exposed still since the REX's armor wasn't finished yet. But even though this model was lesser than its older brother that lay back at Shadow Moses, it was still a monster that Snake would do well not to underestimate.

"Is REX there?" Otacon's voice inquired nervously from the codec.

"I wish you were here to see this, kid," Snake mused, appraising the weapon "The men down here definitely didn't have a clear look at the blueprints, but they're doing a good job on their own... this Metal Gear may not be as advanced as REX was in Shadow Moses, but I'd rather stay out of its way, if I have the chance."

"You have a clear view of it? That's great, Snake. Take pictures with the camera, and get out of there fast!" Otacon said, relieved.

"Otacon," Snake said curtly "I didn't infiltrate this base just to take some pictures. I'm already here, and I have some C4; I'm not going to let this opportunity pass by. We might not get a chance like this again."

"-But..."

"We're already in this, Otacon," Snake grunted "There's no room for hesitation any longer. If you're getting second thoughts about it, I'll do it alone."

There was a brief silence.

"How do you plan to do it?" Hal asked at last, his voice tinted with shaky nervousness but overall steady.

Snake smiled "I thought that the world's leading expert on Metal Gear might be able to give me some tips."

"Well, if that Gear is anything like REX, then it should have the same weak spots... can you describe it to me?"

"It looks like a thinner REX," Snake said simply, crouching low when a guard looked his way from beneath "But it's just as tall. Also, its jaws are smaller, and it has the same radome the original did." He stopped for a moment "Hmm... the railgun looks strange. It seems a bit smaller than REX's."

"Huh? That's weird. The railgun is arguably the most important component. It was a joint venture between Arms Tech and Livermore National Labs, the best of the weapons community. I doubt these guys have managed to improve that kind of technology..."

"Maybe Ocelot didn't share all the blueprints."

"Well, anyway, if it does have the radome and the cockpit, then it probably works the same way REX did," Otacon said "Which means, it uses the radome as a sensor, its own eyes and ears, as well as its radar and provider of real-time battle information. If you take it out, then the Gear will be blind."

"Which means, that the pilot will have to expose the cockpit and pilot manually," Snake nodded, remembering well how he had to fight against his brother when he piloted the war machine.

"Exactly," Otacon confirmed "And the cockpit itself is the most vulnerable place of all, since it's innerly wired to the rest of the Metal Gear. From the outside, destroying those inner wires and systems is impossible, but from the cockpit..."

"A well placed explosive should do the trick."

"That's right," Otacon grinned "Snake, this Gear's not finished yet, so you don't need to destroy the radome for the cockpit to open. That said, if you do destroy the radome, it will send their project back a whole two months, if not longer. But the real issue here is the cockpit. Place a charge inside, and this Gear will never see the light of day."

"Got it."

Otacon felt a sense of unreality, of detachment, as he saw his partner infiltrate the heart of the enemy fortress in his quest to destroy Metal Gear. This whole experience felt so... surreal, as if it was all part of a big dream he'd wake up from any instant from now. The thought of him, Hal Emmerich, a geeky scientist whose very career had been influenced by his love of anime, now cooperating with a legendary warrior to destroy giant war machines... it was laughable at best. But alas, here he was.

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It was damned hard to move silently in the metallic catwalk. Snake almost tripped twice, still unused to his new boots and somewhat rusty after months of inactivity. Metal Gear REX was in the center of the hangar, and the place was tightly guarded. Luckily for him, though, there were plenty of hiding spots he could use to remain undetected. The scientists had set up a lot of computers around the place, and there was a good number of containers as well, probably loaded with parts of the still unfinished REX. And there were quite a few maintenance catwalks and ladders at the sides and crossing the hangar, seemingly to allow easy access to the higher parts of the massive behemoth. That would come in handy for him, Snake thought.

There was a ladder nearby that led up to a catwalk on par with REX's head. Problem was, a sentry was standing a few feet away from it, and climbing undetected would be impossible so long as he remained there. Snake hid next to a container, holding his breath as two scientists walked by right next to him, not seeing him more due to a miracle than the spy's skill. Exhaling softly to relax, Snake decided to use an old trick, effective in its simplicity, and knocked on the container with his knuckles.

"What was that?" the guard next to the ladder asked "Someone there?" He received no reply. A moment later, there was a second set of three knocks on the metallic container. Startled, the guard shouldered his AK 47 and approached carefully. The knocks had come from the other side of the container; he made a wide arc, walking sideways, careful to avoid anyone taking him by surprise, and he finally reached the far side of the large crate.

There was no one there. Confused, the soldier looked around, found nothing else, and shrugged.

"Must have been a scientist, maybe..." he said, getting back to his earlier position. More than forty feet above him, Snake reached the end of the ladder and climbed onto the catwalk.

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The dot that represented Snake in the radar was dim, and kept flickering. Otacon knew that wasn't due to a malfunction in his equipment, but rather the fact that the signal wasn't strong enough to properly pierce all the layers of concrete and iron that made up the secret base. This was it. The moment they had been waiting for. Otacon could feel his pulse, quick and frantic. His chest seemed to tickle a bit due to the tension.

And then he heard the voices.

All the hairs on his arms stood and his gut seemed to become a pit of darkness. A chill went through his back, and his stomach turned to knots. His chest started to heave as his body started to tremble, truly shake as if it were made of jelly. Otacon was terrified beyond measure. There was a spare gun in the truck, that Snake had left just in case, but Otacon dared not grab it. He didn't know how to use it, and besides, he knew himself incapable of shooting a human being.

Otacon waited, sitting down and encircling his legs with his arms, waiting for the men to come search the truck and find him. But time passed, and they didn't do either. And the geek allowed himself a tiny hint of hope. Exhaling loudly, Otacon gathered himself and tried to listen better. Yes, there were some men nearby, two at the least. Probably on the road above. If Snake had been right, then they wouldn't see the truck. If Snake had been right...

The codec rang, almost making Otacon jump in the air.

"Otacon," Snake's rough voice said "I've finished planting the C4. I'm making my way out of the hangar."

"You're done? Really?" Otacon could scarcely believe it "O-Okay then, get out of the base as quickly as you can."

"I'll be there ASAP. Then we'll detonate the charges."

"Yes..."

God help him after Snake did that. Otacon could only hope the men above would return to their base instead of scouting the perimeter. Otherwise, he was dead.

.

Making his way out of the underground base was proving to be easier than getting in. Snake retraced his steps, taking advantage of the already disposed-of guards and well aware of patrol routes. A bunch of scientists escorted by soldiers were approaching his position through a corridor; Snake hid inside a locker and let them pass, coming out only when their steps faded. Smirking, the spy reached a staircase that led upwards.

"Emergency! Emergency! Explosives have been detected inside the base! All non-EOD (Explosive Ordnance Disposal) personnel must evacuate immediately! I repeat, all non-EOD personnel must evacuate immediately! This is not a drill!"

Alarms began to ring loudly, red lights lit up and men and women went into a frenzy. In a matter of seconds, the secret complex went from quiet and orderly into a chaotic storm.

"Damn! They've found the explosives!" Snake cried out, pressing a finger to his ear and calling Otacon through the codec "Otacon, the enemy knows I've rigged REX with C4!"

"Oh, no!" Otacon yelled "Snake, how far away from the hangar are you right now!?"

"Not much," Snake hissed. A group of scientists were coming, and he hid behind some steam pipes next to a wall "I'm in level B-8 right now, close to a staircase that leads to the surface," he said quietly "Otacon, they'll dispose of the charges soon."

"I know, I know, but there's nothing you can do about that," the engineer said sadly, still nervous "Snake, you need to get out of there right now. Abort the mission and come back unseen. Leave that place and come back!"

"..."

"Snake? Are you listening to me? Abort the mission!"

"I can't do that, Otacon." Snake's voice was firm, yet oddly calm.

"What do you mean, you can't?" Otacon said "There's nothing left to do! They've found the C4, so you need to get out of there right now!"

"There is something left to do," Snake replied. Otacon didn't need to see his partner to know that he had grabbed hold of the C4 remote detonator.

"No, you can't!" Otacon cried "It's suicide! It's-"

"Done. Like this."

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**Author Notes 2:** Aaaaaand it's a cliffhanger! I'm sorry for doing that, really. I don't like cliffhangers all that much, but I just had to split my writings or else this chapter would have been eleven thousand words long, which is a chore to read. Also, sorry, but doing this gives me a bit of breathing room so that I can write calmly without feeling rushed, knowing that I have some updates after this one already set to be published.

So, sorry again! Aside from that, did you like this? It's the first time we get to see Snake in action in this fic, as well as his working relationship with Otacon. I plan to expand on that. As for Nastasha, you probably already have an idea of where her plotline is going, if you played Metal Gear Solid 2. She will feature more prominently in the future, I can tell you that.

As usual, thanks for reading, hope you liked it, and please review. See you soon!


	4. Suicide Mission - Part II

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the Metal Gear character or the Metal Gear franchise. They belong to Hideo Kojima, Yoji Shinkawa, Kojima Productions and Konami studios.

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**Author Notes: **How are you all doing? Sorry for the delay. I meant to post this chapter a week ago, but an unexpected trip to my in-law's kept me from doing it. Without further ado, here's the newest episode!

Devil Boss

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**Metal Gear Solid - The Philanthropists**

**Episode 2: A Suicide Mission, Part II**

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_"Damn! They've found the explosives! Otacon, the enemy knows I've rigged REX with C4!"_

_._

_"Snake, you need to get out of there right now! Abort the mission and come back unseen. Leave that place and come back!"_

_._

"Snake? Are you listening to me? Abort the mission!"

"I can't do that, Otacon." Snake's voice was firm, yet oddly calm.

"What do you mean, you can't?" Otacon said "There's nothing left to do! They've found the C4, so you need to get out of there right now!"

"There is something left to do," Snake replied. Otacon didn't need to see his partner to know that he had grabbed hold of the C4 remote detonator.

"No, you can't!" Otacon cried "It's suicide! It's-"

"Done. Like this."

The touch of a button was all it took for Metal Gear REX to be sent into oblivion once more. The walls trembled, the ceiling cracked, the floor rumbled, and the whole complex was shaken to the core. A wave of heat came from beneath, from the burning remains of what would have become the world's ultimate weapon.

Snake took the opportunity to sprint out of his hiding spot and ran upstairs, keeping the Beretta handy. The thunder caused by the explosion was still echoing inside, deafening every other sound. The spy reached level B-7. Dozens of soldiers were rushing through the hallways, making their way to the staircase, heading to the hangar below.

Gasping, Snake jumped aside, taking cover behind the first thing he saw, which was a set of crates to his left. Surprisingly, miraculously, the soldiers didn't see him, running past him no more than a foot away. Should any of them look to the side, Snake would be spotted and killed for sure. He stood no chance against their numbers in corridor like the one he was in. But the men were too disturbed by the blast, and none of them checked their corners; Snake wasn't spotted by mere chance.

The spy sprinted up yet another level. And fate dealt him a bad card at last.

"Who's there!" a man cried from above. There was a scientist just a couple of feet away, staring at Snake in horror. A clean punch to the gut and a chop to the neck took care of the man, but the damage was already done.

"You there! Stop!"

"Stop right there!"

"Freeze! Put your hands in the air now!"

All hell broke loose. Snake dove to the ground as bullets started to fly. Three soldiers were firing upon him from the top of the stairs; Snake answered by throwing his flashbang grenade at their feet.

BANG!

Closing up on the stunned soldiers, Snake swiftly took them out with expert Eskrima moves, leaving them unconscious at his feet.

"Over there! Shoot him!"

More men were coming, guns blazing. Snake took cover next to a wall and fired back to hold them for a few seconds.

"Otacon, quick!" he shouted through the codec "Are there any other escape routes on this floor that I could use? I don't have much time!"

The otaku's voice was shaky with adrenaline and terror "T-there is an elevator near your position, which will take you right up to ground floor of the main building!"

"An _elevator_!? That's the best you can give me!?"

"Sorry! I don't have any other route for you!"

Cursing, Snake fired a couple of times on the incoming troopers, and turned tail to sprint to his right, where the radar showed the lift to be. He could hear the troopers following him, shouting orders.

Dodging bullets, Snake made it inside the elevator. It was large enough to carry eight people comfortably, and luckily it provided some cover against enemy fire. Desperately, his heart pounding in his chest and his veins filled with adrenaline, Snake pushed the button to go to ground floor.

The soldiers were giving signals to each other, shouting in Arabic, a language Snake didn't understand. They stormed the lobby, two of them using suppressive fire to keep Snake pinned while the rest spread out and approached the elevator. Snake fired back twice with his Beretta without peeking from cover, although to little effect. The onslaught of bullets around him, ricocheting against the walls, shattering them, whizzing past his head and body, cracking and rumbling, was maddening. Snake crouched low, his jaw completely tight from the tension, his brow filled with sweat. He thought the veins on his neck would burst if this kept going.

Why was it that a part of him liked this so much?

The doors started to close with a hiss. The men outside were shouting. Snake fired twice more with the Beretta, trying to keep them from reaching the elevator in time. The doors had nearly closed completely when the muzzle of an AK 47, along with an arm, shot through.

The soldier outside opened fire for all he was worth. Snake crouched again, covering himself against the doors, and hit the gun and the hand holding it with the strongest punch he could give. There was a yell of pain and the AK was dropped, but the soldier pushed forward and started to push the doors back, getting half inside the elevator. Snake aimed for his head and fired once, but the man's hand shot out and deviated the gun in the nick of time; and Snake couldn't fight back properly, since his own free hand was pushing desperately the lift's button again, urging it to work again and get him out of there before more soldiers broke inside.

The doors shut one moment after the enemy guard managed to fully get inside. The lift started to go up, with its two caged beasts inside. Snake fired again, to no effect. The guard had his handgun grabbed, and he bent Snake's arm easily - was he so out of shape that a random grunt could overpower him like this? - deviating the bullet and almost breaking Snake's wrist in the process. He twisted, now turning his back on Snake, but never letting go of the gun and the hand holding it. Snake yelled as the man bent his arm and wrist mercilessly; he fought back and received an elbow to the face in response.

Knowing he was about to lose a gun, a hand and his life, Snake went for his only other option. He jammed his left thumb deep inside the crevice between the back of the ear and the neck. The pressure point did its job; the guard shouted in utter pain and let go instinctively, placing a hand over his throbbing left ear. Taking a step back, Snake shot the guard with the Beretta; but the daze caused by the elbow to the face and his still unsteady hand caused the bullet to go wide for a few inches, missing at point blank. Was he really so out of shape?

Seizing the opportunity, the guard lunged forward and tackled him. Snake hit the wall behind him with the force of a battering ram. Air exploded out of his lungs, and the back of his head was hit so hard that he almost lost consciousness. It took him a moment to register where he was; luckily for him, his body had moved on instinct and was now elbowing the guard's neck on its own. But instead of passing out, the soldier pinned him to the wall and punched him in the face. Then he started to throttle him with both hands.

But even in his condition, Snake was sharp enough to know that with his enemy's latest blunder, he had already won the fight. Lifting his right arm high, Snake pushed down with his elbow with a mighty effort, releasing himself from the choke. The soldier was destabilized, his arms still partly outstretched as Snake had known would happen, giving him ample time to grab a wrist and bend it clockwise almost to the breaking point; the enemy guard pushed back, and Snake let him go without a warning, again making him lose balance and fall right into Snake's own chokehold, executed from behind. With his arms forming a triangle around the guard's neck, Snake pressed hard, refusing to let go until his enemy went limp.

And now what? He was trapped inside the elevator, as the metallic cage went upwards into a certainly guarded lobby, filled with men armed to the teeth, waiting for him to come out. And Snake was certain they had complete control over the lift, so trying to head to a different floor was out of the question.

It was the most alive Solid Snake had felt in months. And most of him hated that fact.

He had no time to spare, and therefore he didn't waste it by hesitating. Searching the unconscious soldier, Snake found two grenades. Quickly storing them in a pouch next to his belt, Snake looked up and jumped for the emergency exit placed on the roof of the elevator, four feet above him. Hanging from a handle next to the emergency hatch, Snake pushed it up and climbed to the roof of the lift with a mighty effort of his arms.

He had climbed in the nick of time, as the lift came to a halt right then, and its doors opened to a hail of gunfire that came from outside.

'Shoot first, think later,' Snake mused 'They didn't care much if there were any comrades inside. The next floor is twelve feet up. I hope I can climb fast enough.' But he left the enemy a parting gift, as he dropped the grenades inside the elevator before shutting the trapdoor up.

Three seconds passed and a shattering explosion thundered beneath him. Already reaching the next floor, climbing through the shaft, Snake had to hold fast to the lift's wires to avoid falling off. A series of loud yells, screams and shouts ensued beneath; it seemed his trick had been effective. Climbing the last two feet, Snake faced the shut doors of ground floor. It was no easy task to pry them open with just his left hand while hanging in the shaft, also being unaware of what awaited him on the other side. But Snake pushed, and the doors relented enough to let him pass through.

He entered a large hangar with a high ceiling and tall catwalks above, filled with vehicles and containers. And there was a soldier in front of him, making a double-take with wide eyes.

"What the...!" the man only got to say before Snake shot him between his eyebrows. Acting fast, Snake hid the corpse next to a container, hoping that no one would notice it before he managed to get away.

The base was immersed in utter mayhem. Alarms were blazing, men were shouting and running, scientists were trying to get to the B-5 level to salvage the Gear, and soldiers were heading to the B-1 floor to wipe out the intruder that had caused so much damage. Snake slithered past, using a set of stairs that led to the upper catwalks to hide when a heavily armed strike team rushed to the stairs that led to B-1.

'AKs-74Us, SPAS 12 shotguns, infrared goggles, grenades, and body armor... these guys aren't messing around. Better to get out of here while the confusion lasts.' A quick peek around was enough to learn what he needed to know; there were two exits, one a large armoured gate that led west, and a smaller one south.

Using the chaos to his advantage, Snake made his way through the hangar. There were plenty of hiding spots, between jeeps, trucks, BTRs and even two T-90 Main Battle Tanks, to the spy's surprise. The loud shrill of the alarms drowned all other sounds; Snake didn't even bother to avoid making noises. He headed for the smaller southern exit, bending low to steer clear of enemy sightlines while running between rows of jeeps.

"Over here! Weapons ready!" a loud voice ordered nearby. The sound of many footsteps could be heard, even with the constant sound of the alarms. A second, larger strike team was coming close, moving through the jeeps and heading for the elevator doors of the hangar "Level B-1 is empty! The intruder is trying to get into this floor! We'll stop him at any cost!"

"Damn!" Snake hissed, jumping under a jeep just before the commandos came into view. He could only see their boots as they sped by, intent on securing the elevator. 'And then they'll seal all the exits, leaving me trapped here. I need to act now!' But much to his chagrin, two men had remained behind, watching over the jeeps, high on guard and ready to act fast. And from his prone position under the jeep, Snake didn't have much range of movement, let alone a way to take the two soldiers out without anyone noticing it.

'Crap,' Snake cursed between clenched teeth. He took in his surroundings with a practical glance 'The next row of jeeps is twelve feet left. It'll take me three seconds to get there without standing up; not enough to go unnoticed with these grunts nearby.' Moving on to the next jeep in the same row was out of the question, since one of the soldiers was standing between the two.

"Over here!" a voice called out from behind "I found somebody!"

"Bastard! He got someone!"

"What!?"

The two soldiers standing nearby turned around, trying to look better from their position. Snake didn't hesitate. He rolled left, covering the twelve feet separating him from the next row of jeeps in exactly three seconds, just fast enough to get under one of the cars before one of the soldiers turned his head around. Moving fast, Snake left the underside of the jeep and crouched next to it, using it as cover from enemy sight.

Now that he could move without being seen, Snake moved for the southern door. It was close, and the enemy soldiers weren't guarding it well enough, probably still confident that the intruder had been trapped near the lifts. He sprinted, as fast as he could, not trying to conceal himself any further. If someone turned around, he was dead. The gamble was that no one would.

He reached the doors; no cries of alert were heard.

A small corridor lay on the other side. There was a man in there, keeping guard. He was so surprised at the sight of Snake that he didn't react fast enough to avoid getting punched in the temple. Still running, filled with adrenaline, Snake moved past the unconscious man, Beretta ready. The corridor led to a small staircase that led 'Outside!' he gasped with relief. But another corridor nearby also led to the staircase, and there was another sentry in there.

The soldier reacted fast, bringing up his MP5 submachine gun. Snake reacted faster and shot him in the head.

After making his way up the staircase, Snake found himself outdoors at last. The base was in a frenzy of activity; whole platoons of soldiers were rushing to the main building to lock it down, scientists were fleeing, maintenance crews were desperately loading gear into trucks, and the searchlights were sweeping the base up and down.

Spotting a truck nearby, Snake took advantage of the confusion and jumped on its back. Just a moment later, a soldier loaded one last crate, and the truck rumbled as it left the base.

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X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X** A Suicide Mission, Part II**

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **A Suicide Mission, Part II**

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Ever since Snake had detonated the explosives, activity in the base had turned to pandemonium. Otacon could hear it from the truck, even though he was almost a mile away. He could hear many vehicles leaving the compound, evacuating in the face of sabotage; it seemed no one wanted any valuable equipment in the base to be exposed to attack before they caught the intruder. Otacon could also hear the shouts of the soldiers, as they guided the vehicles away, and called for reinforcements from men in the area surrounding the base.

He was terrified. Not only for Snake, whose last call had been nothing but desperate. Otacon himself was on the line this time; should one of the soldiers spot the truck, only partially hidden in the slope, he would be as good as dead. The possibility left him numb with dread. And if Snake was captured, then what could Otacon do? He was just an engineer, a civilian with no combat training whatsoever. And what he and Snake had done was so illegal that there was no way to get him out by diplomatic means. Otacon was starting to understand the kind of strain units such as FOXHOUND had to live with.

'Is this how you felt every time you risked your life... Wolf?' he wondered silently.

"Over here!" a voice cried.

"What is it?" another answered.

"There's a truck down there!"

Otacon turned completely white. The anguish he felt made his stomach turn and feel as if it weighted a hundred pounds. He started to tremble. The two soldiers were approaching, calling out to whoever was inside the truck, assessing whether it was a friend or foe. But Otacon was too scared to try and pretend to be a part of their unit. Even if he had the presence of mind to try, his trembling and shaky voice would give him away in an instant.

"Is there someone there?" one of the soldiers called out.

'What do I do, what do I do?!' Otacon thought furiously, desperately 'Oh god, please don't let this happen to me! Lord, what do I do!?'

"If there's someone in there, come out with your hands in the air!"

What could he do!? He was stuck inside the back of a truck, next to a computer and a laptop that showed a satellite image of the base that had just been sabotaged. They could trace the codec calls to Snake if they got the chance to look at the computers. There was no time to drive away, and even then the alarm would be on and Otacon would get caught. There was a spare gun, a Walther .22 Snake had left just in case, but Otacon didn't know how to use it, and he wouldn't dare to try to kill a man. So there was nothing he could do. Taking deep breaths, Otacon stood up as best as he could in the back of the truck, and waited for the inevitable.

Solid Snake jumped inside.

"What the- Snake!" Otacon cried out, relief and surprise mixed in his voice.

"I hid the bodies," Snake replied as a way of saying 'hello' "No one saw me. We need to get out of here, now."

"I-uhm-yes!" Otacon was at a loss "Already on it!"

The truck rumbled as its engine came back to life "What are you doing, Snake?" Otacon asked, seeing his partner strip out of his sneaking suit.

"I grabbed one of their uniforms," Snake said curtly, already changing "It could give us some cover. Get us out of here, Otacon! Try to climb to the road."

Climbing the muddy, treacherous slope was a challenge Otacon wasn't sure he could handle, but he gave it his best anyway. The rain had stopped a while ago, and the otaku enjoyed some good visibility that wasn't there before. The truck fumbled its way up to the road without any major inconveniences, and Otacon felt a surge of pride at what he had done. Luckily for them, the vehicles now leaving the base were still too far to see their truck appearing from nowhere.

There was a convoy just ahead, and Otacon hurried to catch up with it.

"Well done," Snake said, seating next to him. He was wearing an enemy uniform now, complete with a balaclava. "Keep your fake ID handy, Otacon. There's a checkpoint ahead."

"Oh, no..." Otacon almost moaned, but complied nonetheless. They approached the checkpoint; the convoy stopped as the vehicles were inspected one by one, before being allowed to pass. Otacon was breathing fast, but his nerves held out well enough as their turn came.

"Show me your ID," an armed soldier demanded, flashing a light into Otacon's face. The geek complied, and the guard examined both the card and the man. He seemed harmless enough. The soldier peeked at Snake, riding shotgun. Disguised as a guard, Snake subtly nodded at him. The guard handed Otacon his ID back, and motioned for them to go on.

The truck jumped forward as Otacon hit the gas a little harder than he should have. The two men exchanged a look as they slowly but surely left the checkpoint behind.

"Slow down," Snake said after a few minutes, unfolding a map "Let the convoy get ahead of us. We should reach another road in a couple of minutes. When we do, make a left turn. It'll lead us near the border with Sudan. We can cross with our IDs and get back to the States from there."

Following Snake's instructions proved to be shockingly simple. Otacon let the convoy get a head start, and turned left at the right place. No one saw them, no alarms were raised, and nothing unexpected happened.

They had escaped.

They had prevailed.

"We're clear, right?" Otacon asked, staring forward.

"We sure are," Snake said, smiling. Otacon felt like smiling, too "Those idiots must be wondering what the hell just happened," Snake said, chuckling. Otacon joined him, and soon the chuckles gave way to unrestrained laughter. It took them a long time to stop.

The laughter died down, and both men were left in silence, still shaking their heads in amazement, disbelief, and glee.

"My god, we really did it..." Otacon whispered, noticing his hands trembling "We really did it, Snake."

"David."

"Huh?" Otacon asked, turning to look at his partner.

"My real name is David, Otacon," Snake said. He had a far-away look on his eyes "Call me like that when we're not on a mission. I'm a person, not just a codename."

"I like the sound of that, David," Otacon smiled "Well... you already know my name's Hal, right? So..."

"Hal and Dave. Maybe we should take a trip to Jupiter," David chuckled. Otacon joined him. What a strange partnership theirs was! The geek would have never believed it would work. But here they were, driving off into the night, having completed their very first mission together, having taken the first step towards a better world. Even the crushing guilt that haunted Otacon day and night seemed to have receded a little.

Hal Emmerich allowed himself to feel good about himself for the first time in months.

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X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X** A Suicide Mission, Part II**

X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X **A Suicide Mission, Part II**

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Deadly to the point of legend, expert in espionage and black operations, mercenary and above all that one of the world's most wanted men, Revolver Ocelot was just like any other man in the sense that he hated being disturbed during his leisure time. But unlike them, his reaction was far more forceful; the glass he'd been holding in his hand flew off, smashing against the left wall of the small plane he was in, currently flying above Estonia. Ocelot took a moment to calm himself; his harsh reaction was more than justified, he thought, since this was his first time to relax in two months, and those idiots in Basthur had just chosen that precise moment to call him, probably because another part of their REX wasn't functioning as they expected.

'And they'll be blaming the blueprints I gave them, instead of double checking the way they install the components,' Ocelot thought with a bitter sigh 'I really need to kill all my links with people when I try to rest.' But that was wishful thinking, and he knew it. Men like Ocelot couldn't afford to be out the loop, not even for a moment.

He picked up his phone, and accepted the incoming call.

"It's me."

"Of course it is a secure line."

"What!?"

"How could that happen?"

"A single operative..."

"No, I don't know who could have done it."

"Is there anything salvageable?"

"Well, that's too bad for you."

"Sorry comrade, you don't have insurance against spies; if you want the specifications to build REX again, you'll have to pay again. Better luck next time."

"Do svidaniya."

Ocelot hung up with a snort. 'Those fools,' he thought 'Did they really think they could build a Metal Gear without having people from all over the world targeting them?' But he couldn't help a nagging sensation on the back of his head, as if something were out of place and he couldn't quite pinpoint what. It hadn't been a strike team or a joint task force that had taken out the REX, but rather a single operative that had infiltrated the base and sabotaged it without being discovered. 'Now that takes skill, and guts,' Ocelot mused as he helped himself to another glass of wine. How many people in the world were able to pull off such stunts? Ocelot kept tabs on every operative _that_ good, and none of them had gotten even close to North Africa in the past month.

The Russian suddenly frowned.

Could it be... _him?_ The idea was ridiculous. Solid Snake was in still in Alaska, probably drinking too much. What did he care if another REX was being built in a country he probably had never heard of?

But Revolver Ocelot hadn't survived the Cold War by being lazy. Men like him were thorough, because that was the only way to stay alive in their world. Frowning, Ocelot dialed a number on his phone. He needed to check up on where the hell Solid Snake was, and start to make plans accordingly.

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**Author Notes 2:** Cliffhanger solved, and business done! Solid Snake and Hal Emmerich have officially destroyed their first Metal Gear. Also, this was the first time to involve heavy action scenes, which I hope you found good and fun.

As usual, your feedback and thoughts are most welcome and I'd be delighted to read them. You'll be seeing the following episode one month from now as usual, with Snake, Otacon, Nastasha and others. Until then, have a good time!


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